This is the first of two onion recipes I’m going to share. Tomorrow you’ll learn more about how/why I have these wonderful sweet onions in the first place, but will post this one first. You’d likely think the above bruschetta was topped with an olive tapenade. Nope. Or maybe a fig jam? Nope. Could even be dark mushrooms? No on all counts. It’s onions.

We went out to dinner last night with good friends, and our custom with Bob & Liz is to gather at one or the other of our homes for some pre-prandial appetizers and wine, then off we go to a restaurant. We’ve been trying to go to NEW restaurants every time we go out, so it keeps us on our toes to find new ones to try. We’ve been very successful so far, even in this economy!

I’d made this appetizer a few days ago with the first of my big onion bonanza and we polished it off last night with our wine and food before dinner. Liz wants the recipe. I’ll be making these again soon.

So here’s the story about them. The recipe is based on one from a new cookbook called The New American Olive Oil, by Fran Gage. I followed her recipe mostly, but then I took a right turn and made it different. After trying it once according to the recipe, I made it my own with the garnish. First you slice about 2 pounds of onions (I used sweet onions) and sauté them with about 4 T. of extra-virgin olive oil and a tiny smattering of salt. It cooks. And cooks. And cooks. At a very low heat for about an hour. You stir occasionally, and more often near the end so the onions don’t stick. During the hour of cooking they lose all their water and they cook down and down and down. The recipe suggests cooking them until they are the color of a polished mahogany table. Am sure you can get the picture. When mine were looking like the skin of an Idaho potato I knew I still had room to go. But stirring is required from then on. Still on fairly low heat. And finally, it DID get to be the color of mahogany.

The huge – HUGE – pan of onions had dwindled to about a half a CUP of dark brown goop. After cooling, you add in some GOOD balsamic vinegar (I happened to use pomegranate balsamic vinegar because it sits out on my countertop). Then you taste it for seasoning. Toasted bread is in order (baguette slices, spread lightly with olive oil and baked at 400 for about 4-5 minutes), then you gently spread some of this heaven-on-a-bun on top of the toast pieces. Here’s where I took the right turn. I thought it needed a taste-foil, so I added some boursin cheese crumbles (my recipe below indicates some crumbled goat cheese, either one) and a smattering of finely minced parsley. Then a jot of freshly ground black pepper and it’s ready to serve.

I like this served slightly warm, but it’s up to you. Certainly no colder than room temp, so if you make this ahead, let it sit out a bit, or heat briefly in the microwave before spreading. Just be prepared for a very small SMALL quantity. Two pounds of onions made about 1/2 cup of finished onions. Just so you know . . .
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Files: MasterCook 5+ and MasterCook 14 (click link to open MC – 14 includes photo)

A year ago: Sauce for Meat Leftovers

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You’ll have to take a gander at these little baby globe-shaped eggplant (below) – they’re called Hindu, or Indian, or Indian Paint. They’re full grown, not really babies. Cute little buggers. Offered at the local farmer’s market last week, and I wanted to do something easy but fun with them.

I cut them in half (although you don’t have to) and baked them (drizzled with olive oil) at 375 for about 45 minutes, until the skins had begun to shrivel. But not enough that they’d dried out. I had ample ripe on-the-stem tomatoes, some red onion, green onion, fresh mint and parsley. Then I made a dressing with olive oil, lemon juice, sherry vinegar, salt, pepper and garlic. The recipe came from Chow.com. I’d never looked at the website before, but the recipe is credited to a restaurant called Nopa (in San Francisco). Chef Laurence Jossel. This could also be an appetizer, I think – the original recipe sounds more like one since you scoop it onto pita bread. So think of that as an option. I made it as a side dish with grilled lamb chops.

The salad, to be served at room temp, was easy. Just a bit of chopping and mincing involved. Be sure to include the wine vinegar – lemon juice isn’t enough to give this salad it’s bright flavor. The original recipe said just wine vinegar – I used sherry because I have some good stuff and like to use it in a salad such as this one when the flavor shines through. These small eggplant don’t need to be skinned – their skin is quite thin and quite edible.
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A year ago: Asparagus (everything you ever wanted to know about)
Two years ago:  Bacon & Tomato Dunk (oh yes, one of my fav’s)

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I don’t know about you, but I don’t buy very much shrimp anymore. According to the shrimp police, or the fish police, or the FDA?, eating almost any kind of shrimp is questionable because of the raising conditions, what they’re fed and what kind of unhealthy minerals we then ingest. I read recently that U.S. grown shrimp are safe, though. But, it’s hard to find U.S. raised shrimp these days. I’ve been looking, but haven’t found any in several months of inspecting labels in minute fine print at my local stores. Of course, I don’t (won’t) buy shrimp from the regular grocery stores anyway. Those shrimp don’t even look appealing, sorry to say. Usually I trust Trader Joe’s, but these shrimp pictured above came from Thailand, I think. Probably not a good source, either. So right now my freezer is empty of shrimp, and may be so for awhile. Makes me sad, because I really like shrimp. Sigh.

Well anyway, I decided to whip up something with this last bag. I went to my to-try recipes and found something called Southern BBQ shrimp. Well, these aren’t like any kind of “barbecue” I know. They don’t even make a fly-by over an outdoor grill. They’re broiled. (And no, you wouldn’t want to grill them because they’d burn with the amount of brown sugar in the marinade.) So how come the name? Well, it’s a southern (American) tradition – making a “barbecue” kind of sauce with Worcestershire sauce, butter and brown sugar. This recipe also had lemon juice, and some seasoning too. Whatever it’s called, it was easy to make. And QUICK. The recipe came from Bon Appetit, in July, 2006. With a nice multi-vegetable green salad, this was dinner. The article recommended some baguette slices on the side too. I used shrimp with only the tail shells attached, but the recipe calls for raw, full-shell types. Some of these versions of Southern BBQ shrimp came from shrimp boat chefs, when they were out at sea. Maybe somebody who reads my blog and is from the South will weigh-in on the origin of this kind of barbecue . . .
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A year ago: Greek Pita Sandwich
Two years ago: Roasted Poblano Asiago Soup (oh, a real favorite)

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A black bean mixture with roasted poblano chiles, onion, spices, spread with a layer of sour cream and topped with a roasted New Mexico chile salsa

Making this a couple of days ago, I could hardly keep my tasting spoon out of the food processor as I was whizzing up the bean mixture. Oh is it good! Thanks to Phillis Carey, who made this at a recent cooking class. It took me about 3 days to decide this needed to be on the menu for our weekend family birthday.

Now, I’ll be the first one to tell you that there is a moderate amount of prep to making this – it’s not like buying canned bean dip and spreading on some sour cream and jarred chile salsa and calling it done.

There’s a fairly simple chile salsa to make (dried chiles, fresh tomatoes, onion, garlic, oregano, cider vinegar and salt) first. The bean layer isn’t all that hard exactly, but you do have to char the chiles first (poblano/pasilla), peel, seed and chop them. With onion, garlic, fresh lime juice, cilantro, then some seasonings, it does take a few minutes to prep too. A note about the chiles . . . New Mexican chiles are nothing more than dried Anaheim chiles (they’re not hot). You may also see them as “California chiles.” I believe they’re the same thing. These are not necessarily chiles FROM New Mexico – but once Anaheims are dried they seem to be attached to New Mexico (they do grow thousands of pounds of them).

The bean layer is spread into a flat dish (like a decorative pie plate at right) and allowed to chill awhile. Meanwhile you can make the chile salsa (including a bit of broiling and baking time for the tomatoes, onions and garlic). The food processor makes simple work, though, of the sauce once the ingredients are all ready to go. The salsa recipe makes more than you’ll need, but it can be used for other things (another recipe from the class that I’ll share soon). I actually used two poblano chiles when I made it, but I like that chile flavor.

An hour before you’re ready to serve this, remove the bean mixture from the refrigerator (so the dip isn’t chilled-cold), then just before serving you spread on the sour cream, then the salsa. Done. Your guests will just not recognize this from the throw-together-from-cans-type of layered bean dip. The flavors are deep (not hot) and complex. Serve with tortilla chips, and I defy you to stop at one! I heard comments like this: “wow, what’s IN this,  “Mom, this is amazing,” and “is this ever GOOD!”
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A year ago: Lemon Rice Pilaf

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Buying the book A HomeMade Life, by Molly Wizenberg (the writer of the blog Orangette) was a given. I’m just so proud to be in the same league (Molly and the others are in the major leagues, I’m in the minors) as the few other bloggers who are published authors – published mostly because of writing a food blog.

The stories in the book are refreshing reflections on her life – her growing up years, with recipes included. Then when she became an adult, she began cooking in earnest on her own and discovered how much she enjoyed it. (And now, she and Brandon, her husband – you read all about him in the book too – are about to open a restaurant in Seattle, called Delancey.) Her chapters are so darned CUTE. She has a sparkly wit and weaves wonderful tales. Even though I’d read some of it over at her blog, in book form it was just as entrancing. And the recipes are not your mainstream potato salad or tomato soup. They’re different, like Meatballs with Pine Nuts, Cilantro and Golden Raisins, Bouchons au Thon (a quiche/pate kind of muffin-style omelet, sort of), Bread Salad with Cherries, Arugula and Goat Cheese, and this, the Pickled Grapes. Why pickled grapes? Because Brandon is a pickle nut, of course.

Possibly I’d never have tried this recipe except that Smitten Kitchen did and raved on and on. So I looked again at the recipe in the book – it’s so EASY. You make a vinegar brine with a cinnamon stick, brown mustard seeds (gee, I even HAD some of those) and whole peppercorns. You cut off the little stems ends (the belly-button ends, Molly tells us) and soak the grapes in the brine.

Serving this on top of some fresh goat cheese was so fun. Once you taste them, you know they’re grapes, but looking at them on the plate (top photo) you might wonder. They’d be equally at home served with pieces of cheese – maybe even some veiny Blue or Cambazola, for instance. Serve with crackers. If serving with a soft cheese, I think the grapes should be chopped up (once brined). That way they’d stick to the cheese a bit easier.  If serving with firmer cheese, leaving them in whole or halves would be better. Molly adds the hot brine to the grapes. Smitten Kitchen cooled the brine first, then marinated them. Your choice. Whichever way, you’ll be glad you tried these. They’re just flat-out delicious.
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A year ago: What is it about Plates?, a post about my obsession with plates, china, etc.

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There were a few years in there when I didn’t even make guacamole because of the cost of the avocados. Here in California, where most people were raised on the stuff, if not at home, in Mexican restaurants, that’s almost sacrilegious! Normally I don’t follow a recipe, but just add in ingredients to the avos (in case you live in an avocado free zone of the world, the shortened word is pronounced A-voh). Those add-ins are minced green onion, jalapeno, lime or lemon juice, sometimes tomatoes, sometimes sour cream, or mayo. But even I know that some of those ingredients are not true to the Central Mexican heritage of the dish.

But, since Costco has avos year ’round, and at a reasonable price, I pick up a bag (usually 5 of them) now and then. Mostly they’re used in salads around my house, but since we were going to our son’s home for dinner and I still had 4 of them in the fridge, well, hey, guac here we come.

Turning to Diana Kennedy’s tome, The Essential Cuisines of Mexico, about all things Mexican food, I learned that the word guacamole is a combination of two Mexican words that mean avocado and mixture or concoction. Well, yes, that’s exactly what it is. I learned that in Mexico it’s always served immediately upon making it – no sitting around the the refrigerator at all, with the pit in it. And they make it in a molcajete, (pictured right, from Wikipedia) that big, round stone mortar and pestle used all over Mexico to mash things (spices, beans, or whatever). Not owning a molcajete, I turned to my food processor instead. Kennedy suggests using a blender for the base mixture (white onion, chile peppers and cilantro), but no way would my blender grind up a bunch of dry-ish ingredients like that. My food processor did a fairly adequate job of mincing up the base, then I chopped in the avos by hand, added some salt and pepper. Then, because I was making this ahead, I added some lemon juice. Not much, and that isn’t in Kennedy’s recipe at all.

Surprisingly, there is no garlic in the authentic version. I was quite surprised. And really, I was surprised there wasn’t lime juice in it from the get-go. But what I’ll tell you is that it was fabulous. Absolutely off the charts delicious. So, if Costco carries avos in your part of the country, get some and make this. Then, of course, you have to serve it with really good, high-fat fried tortilla chips. Make your own if you can; otherwise packaged chips will do. And if you can, make it just before serving.
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Have you ever had jicama? (Pronounced HEE-kah-ma.) It’s such an odd thing (actually it’s a root, the only edible thing on the jicama plant, as the leaves and seeds are toxic, so I read). To some people it’s simply so unusual, they won’t try it. Or eat it. It has an odd texture – crispy sort of – like a water chestnut. It crunches like them, anyway. It contains a lot of water, so it stays moist for a long time. Some foodies liken the taste to a cross between a water chestnut and a pear. I don’t find the pear in it, since to me the taste of a jicama is non-descript. But it adds a lot to a veggie platter. And the best part about jicama is that it doesn’t turn color or get limp – even after hours. Like avocado, or carrots and celery, or some other veggies. And it’s extremely low in calorie too.

You can cut it into different shapes. It can be used in sushi rolls, a cole slaw, or as in crunchy little wisps in a sandwich wrap (these ideas I got from a Cooking Light article). I have one recipe for a jicama slaw that is wonderfully flavorful with citrus and citrus juice. I haven’t posted that recipe, but maybe I’ll need to do that. Perhaps I’ll make it with the leftover jicama I have on hand.

Here in California we see (and use) jicama in salads sometimes. I buy it now and then. Usually I can’t manage to finish a whole jicama before it goes bad, so I try to buy small ones – if they’re available. Jicama comes from Mexico (where they call it a yam bean or a Mexican turnip).

My favorite way to eat jicama, though, is this one – what you see in the photo above. You simply roll the jicama sticks in some lime juice (or lemon if that’s all you  have) and then in some chili powder. Don’t use hot chili powder, just regular flavorful type – grocery store type is fine. That’s it. Stand them up in a bowl and serve. You don’t want to serve this with a dip – it doesn’t need anything at all to serve with it.
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A year ago: Orange Jalapeno Vinaigrette

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The other night I took a veggie platter to the home of some friends, Lucy & Wayne, who live in Pasadena (an hour’s drive from where we live). Lucy is the penultimate hostess – with the most exquisite table settings, and glorious food. Maybe when I grow up I’ll entertain as seamlessly as she does. She’s never flustered. I admire that.

The dinner the other night was a belated Valentine’s celebration. All couples who know one another well. Each person was asked to bring a poem, short story, (joke, perhaps), or some personal story to tell about love. We also shared the stories about how each couple met, which was very fun. Lucy’s dinner was based around food in poetry. There were 3 courses served at the table (my veggies were served in the living room with glasses of champagne prior to sitting down at their beautiful table). With each course, Wayne read a bit of poetry.

The first one was a children’s poem which included something about mincemeat. So Lucy served a delicious, warmed pate with her homemade mincemeat and a phyllo dough “purse” sitting on top (along with a really special apple cider ice wine from Quebec). And it was all topped with watercress and a tasty vinaigrette too. The second course was a poem about pigs, so it was a fabulous stuffed pork roast with baked cabbage and golden raisins, nestled on a mound of fluffy mashed potatoes and a clear gravy drizzled over it all (along with an Oregon Pinot Noir). The third course (dessert) was a poem about blackberries, so we had an incredible 5-layer blackberry cake with blackberry curd (Lucy made that too) and fresh blackberries (that served with 28-year old Port from Portugal). All through the evening, then, the different couples shared stories, jokes, wedding photos. It was a very fun evening. We all had some good belly laughs.

For us, I’d found a little poem in our local paper, which I gave to Dave to read. It’s ever-so-cute. Our newspaper had requested submissions of romantic text messages from readers. Be sure to read it all the way through, and forget about the fact that it’s corny . . .

When you and I are far apart,
Can sorrow break our tender hearts,
I really love you, yes I do,
Sleep is sweet when I dream of you,
All you are is a blooming rose,
Night is here so I must close.
With care read the first word in each line
You will there a question find . . .

Get it, huh, huh, huh? Above published in the Orange County Register, February 14, 2009, and submitted by Donna Johnson, from Long Beach.

When it was MY turn to share, I read a poem from a favorite book of mine: Other People’s Love Letters: 150 Letters You Were Never Meant To See. It’s a precious book, although most of the letters in it could not be repeated here as they’re a bit too risque. The letters, notes and email messages covered a wide range of years (as early as World War II), and are reproduced in the book on whatever they were written on. Lined paper, pink paper, brown paper bags, all myriad of writing surfaces. What I read was a long, LONG list of things a woman loved about her husband. Very sweet, poignant, heartfelt, adorable. Little everyday things, but a very special list. In the addendum to the book, the editor, Bill Shapiro, shared that a few days after the Valentine list was given to her husband, she was killed in an automobile accident. If you’re intrigued by the book idea, go to the Other People’s Love Letters website.

So, let’s get back to food, shall we? Usually when I make this dunk/dip, it’s made with mayo plus the tomatoes, green onions and bacon, but I decided to make a modification – since this was going to be served with veggies instead of crackers or pita chips, I thought the ratio of mayo to tomatoes was too high. So I made it with some light sour cream added. I used some mayo, but added a bit more sour cream to the mixture. And now that I use my alligator chopper so much, I decided to make this without using the food processor. The finely minced tomatoes out of the chopper were the perfect size. So everything was just hand minced, combined and chilled for a few hours before serving.

I served everything in ramekins, standing up as best I could make them. The asparagus and haricot verts were in short, clear glasses. And I put the dunk/dip in a ramekin on TOP of another ramekin turned upside down so the dunk/dip was elevated (looked nicer and made it easier for people to dip the veggies into it). On my huge platter I served fresh asparagus (those spears were eaten first, I think), cucumber slices, haricot verts, radishes (the dip was hard to scoop with them, I must admit), fennel slices, celery, sugar snap peas and carrots. I also served jicama, but I’ll write a separate post about that.
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If a BLT combination is a favorite for you, check out this recipe for BLT Salad that’s one of my favorites.
A year ago: Armenian Parsley Walnut Salad

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Likely you’ll look at this and think – uh – ho-hum ham and cheese. Nope. Not cheese, and not ho-hum, either. The middle layer is pear. And that little golden nugget on top is crystallized ginger.

These appetizers are really easy, except for assembling them. Not that assembling is hard, just a bit time consuming. My DH, Dave, did it for me, moments before our guests arrived.

The ham cubes are soaked in port wine. (And if you don’t want to imbibe, just eliminate that step – they’ll still be awesomely good.) That’s it. Nothing all that unusual. You can use canned pears if that’s easier. We used fresh, just because we had them. The crystallized ginger I had was in small pieces. The bite (toothpick) might have handled two small pieces of ginger, but I advise you taste first. You do want about equal sizes of pear and ham – that we’ve learned from the years of making these. I was supposed to grate some nutmeg on top – oops, forgot. The nutmeg does add just a little scent of something different, so when YOU make them, do add it.

I found this recipe – years and years ago – in some English cookbook I have (or had). And have been making them ever since.
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A year ago: Pear & Chocolate Tart (a favorite)

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This recipe has been collecting dust for years. And years. And years. My notes say I got it from a MasterCook message board, but after sleuthing on the internet about it, it seems this recipe originated from the California Table Grape Commission. I found this version at a website called Taste of Home, posted by someone named chefly.

I was getting a head start on all the food prep for tonight, so made this a couple of days ahead. And because I wanted to see what it tasted like before the big evening, we had a few as a snack (actually our lunch). The only caveat I’d tell you is that you don’t want to add the pine nuts or grapes until you’re about ready to assemble these. No soggy nuts or grape juice oozing, thank you. I made the cheese mixture sans grapes and nuts, and just added them at the last minute. Do bring the cheese mixture to room temperature, though, as you’ll never get it to spread otherwise. The mixture gets spread on a baguette slice and is baked or broiled. Watch them carefully, though, as they’ll burn easily.

The combination of fresh grapes in this cheese spread is masterful. You’ll like the texture change. The original recipe said to cut the grapes in half. That’s not enough – they need to be cut in quarters. But that really doesn’t take long if you have a very sharp knife. Once spread on the baguette slices and baked, the cheesy mixture is just sublime. Melts in your mouth. The gorgonzola is not overpowering (really). The grapes are what make this, so don’t eliminate them.

The nuts can be baked for 7 minutes or so to toast them, or toss them around in a nonstick skillet for even less time, which is what I did. Let the crostini cool just a minute or two before serving so people don’t burn the roofs of their mouths. I sprinkled a tiny bit of Italian parsley on top just for decoration. I’ve added it to the recipe.
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Files: MasterCook 5+ and MasterCook 14 (click to open MC – 14 includes photo)

A year ago: Orzo Carbonara

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